Taxi remade
by celticgothhardy
Summary: Okay, so this is the version of ‘Taxi’ that was dancing in my head between the 8th and the 14th. Please read and review. Complete.
1. Promo

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI NY. I definitely don't own this wording. I am borrowing to demonstrate a point.

Okay, so this is the version of 'Taxi' that was dancing in my head between the 8th and the 14th (and is still dancing). So, here's a text version of the preview that showed at the end of Personal Foul. This is the only one I'm going by. Youtube still has the promo up.

**

* * *

Announcer: **Six fares. (Squeal of tires. Body being dumped out of a taxi.) Six murders.

**Flack:** He just upped his game.

Opening of a trunk reveals Reed Garrett bound and gagged in the trunk. A figure holding someone. A body is placed next to Reed. Reed muffled a scream.

**Announcer (Over the image): **Now the taxi cab killer's next target

**Stella:** It's Reed.

**Announcer :** is Detective Taylor's own son.

**Reed: **You going to kill me?

Killer walks out holding something wrapped in blue and yellow tarp. Click of a 9mm.

**Mac: **Stop right there.

Killer drops the tarp wrapped item and starts running. Mac chases after him. Flashes of Flack, SWAT. Killer flying through the air.

**Announcer: **A new CSI New York, CBS, next Wednesday.


	2. First Live Victim

D: I don't own CSI NY.

First, this will be AU. Different Taxi, okay? Second, I'm de-aging Reed to fit with the timeline because the writers probably screwed up. I think. And he's not Mac's son, the people messed up when they wrote the promo script. He's his step-son. Third, read please.

* * *

He now knew the exact amount of time it took to knock a person unconscious. He had had an error with the first real estate agent that had caused her to still be alive when he finished the job. He had taken off the fumes too early. She woke up in the trunk and almost managed to get out. Strangling her wasn't the best and after he had to get under her nails to get the skin out. He had found the pieces of paper and decided to let them stay under the nails. He even folded her hand over the small piece of plastic that she had managed to get.

All the others he had wanted to kill. He had gotten a rush of adrenaline from the killing. The rush helped with the cutting in their necks and dumping them in the water. Then, the task of cleaning out the back cuts down on the rush and he's left wanting more. He didn't want the normal death anymore. He wanted someone alive, someone he could actually have fun with.

The victim he picked was a perfect choice. While all the normal serial killers had simply mailed letters to the police and the media outlets, he had a blogger that would be able to tell the world what he was doing at the exact moment he was doing it. The poor kid even had a person in the NYPD that he could contact. "And so naïve," he commented, looking back on the blogger that he had managed to get by just sending a text message for information about himself.

His victim was slumped over the back seat. He had watched him mess with the door and not getting anywhere. He timed the release of the exhaust for four seconds. His body fell across the seat after fighting the fumes. He had turned off the fumes when he was slumping. He had cracked his passenger window and the separator to let out some of the fumes so he didn't die. _I have to have my fun. And my resource. _He looked back at his victim and let a smile creep onto his face.

The drive to the building takes about thirty minutes. He had outfitted the place for commodities. It had a working bathroom, kitchen, stolen cable and DSL service. There were three bedrooms. One was for him, obviously. The other two were fitted for the next victims he was going to take in. One was a long term. _For the blogger._ The other was for the ones he chose the next time.

Lifting him out the back was relativity easy. _He's lighter than about half my victims, including the females. _He checked for a pulse and was relieved that he didn't have to go out and find a replacement. He then checked his pockets for anything that would lead to his contact within the NYPD. The cell phone was the first thing he came across. He scrolled through the names and didn't see any that popped out as officers he had encountered. He took a few more things out of his pockets, most notably his keys, and stuck them in his pockets.

While the blogger lie on the ground, the killer made no hurried movements to grab a roll of duct tape. He quickly bound his hands, or in better terms, his arms up to the elbows. He wrapped his mouth a couple of times so he couldn't scream out for help. He then waited for him to stir.

--

Don Flack was on his fifth cup of coffee. He had just gotten off a double shift and was heading back in for another. Mac's word had gotten through the precinct. Double overtime and around the clock were definitely the words as several patrol officers were grumbling about another day of false leads to go on. He almost smiled to himself until he remembered that he was in on it. "Damn it, Mac," he mouthed, taking a mouthful of coffee.

At that moment, a cab came barreling down the street. Flack barely got out of the way when something fell out and was lying on the ground. He started to chase after the cab to catch the plate when the cab swerved to the right, heading down a one way that didn't have sidewalks or any place to escape should another car come after him. He went back to the something in the road. At that point, he realized it wasn't a something and started calling Mac. "He just upped his game," he said to himself.

"Taylor."

"Hey, Mac, I think we got a personal gift."

--

Mac Taylor didn't like the scene. Another body that bore the markings of the Taxi Cab Killer. Stella was taking photos of the body while he tried to ask questions about the cab.

"Did you get anything off of it?" he asked Flack.

"Only the grill. Thought I saw the Ford symbol."

"License plate?"

"Almost getting run over tends to put stuff in perspective. The guy was going too fast; I was running after him. He went down the one way and I didn't feel like risking my butt," Flack said defensively. He walked off.

Stella looked at him with one of her patented 'Lay off' looks. Mac turned his attention to the crime scene. "What do we got?"

"Lacerations on the back of the neck and bright red blood."

"Indicative of carbon monoxide poisoning. Anything else?"

"Nothing that can't be touched without Sid going over the body first. ID will be in the pockets if it's not underneath the body."

"They're already coming up?"

"Sid's prepped for the body. Two assistants are already through the elevators. Danny's going to be called in and he'll be the one with the body. He'll collect and process with Hawkes."

"I better alert Jordan about the latest victim. Otherwise, she's going to be screaming at me that the press picked it up before it even got through the department."

"I'll finish collecting everything out here. I'll also help with the bulletin for patrol." Stella went over to the tire tracks that had been made.

Mac pulled out his cell phone and walked back into the building while waiting for Jordan to pick up. The mayor's office has been going on the same timetable as the department, waiting for things they would have to spin for the press. She answered on the first ring. "Jordan Gates, who is this?"

"It's Taylor. We have another body."

--

It didn't take him long to try and scream. His eyes opened for a moment and took in the sight of the building. He looked around until seeing him sitting close to him. Then he started screaming and moving away from him. He simply grabbed his upper arm to keep him close. One of the legs had been helping him moved now kicked him in the back. He swore under his breath and grabbed the duct tape again. He pinned the legs and taped them at the ankles.

He looked back at his face. He had stopped screaming, but he was starting to tear up. Fear was written on his face and he was starting to shake. "Shh, shh. There's nothing to be scared of," he cooed, pushing some of the strands of hair out of his face. He started to shake even more.

He grabbed a camera and started to take photos of his face. He was trying to grab the ones that would pull at the most heartstrings. _The contact will be bound to see these and come calling for him._ He was getting the tears well, but he couldn't get the shake on a picture. _I'll have to find a way to put a video on the blog. _He walked over to the table to sit the pictures down so he could select a few good ones. He then went back to the blogger. "Come on, let's get you set up in your room," he announced, grabbing the arms and dragging the feet.

--

"What do ya got for me, Sid?" Danny Messer asked, pulling on a pair of gloves.

"Well, his clothes are already up with Sheldon," he pointed out.

Danny raised his hands in defense. "I was home, getting some well needed sleep before jumping full on into it on my next shift."

Sid nodded. "Right. Your victim is less than six hours dead. He was killed by carbon monoxide poisoning and the carvings are the L two seven two nine like the previous victims."

"Anything under the nails that we may be able to attribute to a particular taxi?"

Sid looked at a Petri dish that he had collected everything under the nails, which wasn't much. "There were a few pieces of leather, but nothing in the way of DNA or other trace." He handed it to Danny.

"Maybe there's trace on the leather. Thanks Sid," Danny ended, leaving the morgue.

--

He was out driving. The blogger had curled up and backed himself against the wall as soon as he was on the bed. He showed him the blanket and walked out. He heard the crying through the wall and smiled to himself. He was starting to get that adrenaline rush and knew that he had to get rid of it. He also needed a way to deliver the message to the contact.

He noticed a man standing on a corner holding several bags. He pulled over and got out of the car. "Let me help you with those things. I'll drive you to your place at half-price," he offered. The man didn't show a moment's hesitation, which was weird considering the news about the Taxi Cab Killer. He loaded the trunk with his groceries and opened the door for the man.

"Thanks for this. There isn't another taxi going around. I'd figure there would be a few more on a rainy night like this," he commented.

"Well, there's got to be a few brave souls still out there getting paid," he joked, getting back onto the road. He went quiet and focused on getting back to the building. About halfway there, he switched on the exhaust fumes. The man was dead within two minutes. He calmly switched the exhaust off and let the fumes settle before getting back.

Getting his body out was harder than the lawyer. He finally heard it hit the concrete and went to go get the stone to carve the neck. On the way back, he picked up a notepad and a pencil. The pictures were with them and an envelope was set and addressed to the detective that had conducted the press conference. The one that the blogger had embarrassed him at. He smiled at the memory of watching the blogger ask the question to Detective Taylor about riding in a cab. "Maybe this guy should have watched the conference and heeded Taylor's answer," he said to himself.

The neck was still letting blood loose when he carved. He had to wipe several times so he could see the area. He then tucked the envelope with a letter and several pictures in one of his jackets inside pockets. He wanted the contact to find out right away. So instead of wrapping the body and dumping like normal, he rigged the passenger door handle with a piece of rope. When the time came, he would pull the string and the body would fall out. He placed the body so it was heavily leaning on the door. He started the car and drove to the NYPD crime lab.

He was smiling when he drove away after dumping the body. He got a laugh when Flack started chasing him. He went down the one way and slowed down. He brought out the keys he had taken off the blogger and started driving toward the blogger's apartment, which he knew after following him for a while before.

--

"About time you showed up," Hawkes commented as Danny walked into the lab. Hawkes was going over the clothes they took off the victim.

"Had to go back for the trace you left behind. What do ya got?"

"Victim's name is Kyle Raven. Age 35, wife and two kids. He had an envelope in his right inside pocket that I called down Mac for."

"Why?"

"It's addressed to him. Stella's joining him."

It took three minutes for Mac and Stella to get down to the lab. Light was just starting to shine through the windows of the lab. Mac was suited in a white lab coat while Stella was wearing gloves only. "Where's the envelope?" he asked. Hawkes pointed to a closed bag that held the envelope. Mac signed the paper for chain of custody, slid gloves on and opened the seal on the bag. He took out the envelope and used a sterile knife to cut it open. All of the photos were facing down, so he didn't see them at first. He focused on the letter. "Detective Taylor, it is a pleasure to talk to you. Unfortunately, it is not face to face. However, I'm sure we can work that out as soon as the contact within your department finds out his blogger is missing. You should recognize him fairly well; he was at the press conference. Hope to face you soon. As the media is calling me, the Cabbie Killer," he read.

"Mac," Stella said, grabbing his attention, "it's Reed." She held up several of the photos. Mac looked at the photos and something inside him got sick. He saw the scared look in his face and the tears starting to roll down his face. His face took on a murderous glare.

"The son of a bitch has got him."

* * *

Twisted, but isn't this what you imagined when you saw that preview, or at least something like it.

Review, pretty please. Please.


	3. Phone Call

D: I don't own CSI NY.

* * *

He thought about how the victim had talked about how rainy the night was. _The blogger was standing out there for several minutes. He's probably soaked. I should get him some clothes so he doesn't die on me. That wouldn't be good._ He was at the apartment in fifteen minutes. One key opened the front door while another opened the apartment, which he found out by the mail boxes set in the stairs.

He quickly picked out some items from the blogger's closet and decided to search through the items in the apartment for a lead on the contact. He went through several papers and quickly went through the computer for any information. _He's smarter than I give him credit for. It's not out in the open. _He leaned back in the chair at the desk and looked at the computer. A moment's thought and he was packing up the computer to try and crack it more at the building.

As he passed the shelves to the doors, he failed to notice the one thing that would have helped him figure out the contact. There was a line of pictures. The first was a woman wearing a brown overcoat and smiling at the camera, or more likely at the person behind the camera. The second was of the woman with Detective Taylor. The third was of Detective Taylor with his arm around the blogger. Taylor was wearing a suit; the blogger was in a navy blue gown. They had their arms around each other and were smiling at the camera.

--

Mac gave the job of analyzing the letter to Stella while Danny and Hawkes finished processing the clothes from the victim. He had gone to his office to search for his phone to call Reed and see if he couldn't get an answer. His eyes scanned his desk and hit the picture of Reed's graduation from college.

"_Why did you double up on classes?" Mac asked Reed after the ceremony._

"_Wanted to get through faster. Get out into the world faster."_

"_Why would you want to get out into the world faster?"_

"_So I can get to the bigger stories first."_

"_Faster isn't always better."_

His flashback was interrupted by Stella bringing results from the letter. "Normal paper, normal pen. The only thing not normal with it was that when it was sitting around. It picked up traces of sea salt. Now, what makes it unique is that there were several different compounds mixed in with the salt. All of which point to a specific part of the Atlantic."

"Stella, we live next to the Atlantic."

"Right, but we stopped using lead in our gasoline back in the '70's. Several South American countries still do. The lead leaches into the air. Falls down in the rain and becomes a part of the environment. A case a few years ago in Vegas was named death by chocolate due to the lead that had been absorbed by the cacao plant used to make the chocolate. Their victim constantly ate a certain brand of chocolate and died from all the lead that was in the chocolate."

"Where does this lead us?"

"Several fish processing plants use to get fish from these places, but after lead was detected in high levels of the fish, the government put a ban on the fish. One company didn't stop. They had a processing plant in the city. It's been closed for the last five years." Mac grabbed his gun and his badge and followed Stella out.

--

Flack was directing SWAT around the building. Mac and Stella were hanging by the front entrance. Danny, Lindsay and Hawkes were waiting by the cars for the all clear. Mac, Stella and Flack had vests on and the SWAT was fully equipped. Flack gave the signal and several members went through the back. Flack headed in first followed by Mac and Stella. They went through several halls before ending in the main processing room.

Most of the equipment had been moved out five years ago. The pieces left were rusted and falling in on themselves. Several men were searching the place and going around them. A short squawk on the radio indicated that no one was present in the building. "Damn it," Mac said, looking around the room for any clue that the killer had Reed there at some point.

"Mac." Stella pointed out a table that held a digital recorder and a disc in a case. "He wants us to play the recording at the same time as the disc."

"Mac, three of the SWAT guys just found bags with clothes in them," Flack reported.

"Anything on them?"

"Nothing that they can see."

"All right, let's get Danny, Lindsay and Hawkes in here. I want to know if there's any connection to another place that the Cabbie Killer could be using."

--

He walked into the room where he was holding the blogger. He had fallen asleep in the corner that he had regressed to. He wanted to see what would wake him up. Setting the clothes down by the blanket, he sat down next to him. He picked the right hand and moved the fingers. He watched the face for the slow sign of waking. There was nothing, so he tugged on his shoulder a little. Still nothing. He started playing with the hair and stroking his face.

_He's not sleeping. _The eyes squeezed and the body started to shake lightly. "Wake up," he cooed, still stroking his face. The body started to shake a little more. "Wake up." He refused to open his eyes. He took out a knife and slid out the sharpest blade. He placed it against his neck. His eyes popped open. "Good boy. Good blogger. Or do you call yourself a journalist?" He moved the knife and slit the tape around his mouth, removing it.

"In-investigative journalist," he sputtered his breathing uneven to keep the tears in his eyes unshed.

"Journalist. Did you actually go to school for it?" He nodded his head. "Did it help in writing about me?" He looked at him with a mixture of fear and question. "Ah, that's okay. I'm sure it did, Reed. Do you mind if I call you Reed?" Reed shook his head. "Good, listen. I'm going to go and make us something. Now I want you," he instructed, cutting the tape on his arms, "to change into these clothes that I got from your apartment. Leave your clothes on the bed." He cut the tape on his legs and got up to stand, but turned back to stroke his hair one more time.

Reed moved his right arm and got it out of the tape cocoon he had made. He balled it up on the floor and took the tape around his legs and almost threw it by the other tape. _Mac's going to need this. He's going to clean everything up, so I need to leave something behind for Mac. _He crawled under the bed and slid the tape between two bars running under the bed.

He then got up and changed into the clothes that he had brought. He set the others down on the edge of the bed and then sat down in the exact place he had been sitting before. He brought up his knees to his chest and buried his face to keep out the image around him and calm himself down.

--

"These are Reed's clothes," Mac stated as he looked over the bags that had been brought in. All the pieces had been separated. Danny was off in the room that had the clothes. Lindsay found a room that contained a bed. Hawkes was going over the video and the tape recorder.

Stella was going over tire tracks that she found about seven feet away from the table. She was taking photos and referring back to her notebook. "Hey Mac, I think these tire tracks belong to the same vehicle that dumped our victim outside the precinct."

"All right, so we know it's him."

"We have the video and the audio file synced together. Do you want to see it?" Mac came over to the laptop that Hawkes had brought in. He nodded and Hawkes played the file.

The video showed Reed looking into the camera. His hands were bound and the digital recorder was between his hands. "All right," a voice commanded off-screen, "now you're directing this to Detective Taylor and your contact in the NYPD. Got it?"

"Yes."

--

"I want you to tell Detective Taylor the events that led up to this moment." The man was standing behind the camera, making sure it was positioned right so it wouldn't give any clues to the new building.

Reed took a shaky breath. "I had been arguing with my contact over a story I posted that had false information in it. After the argument, I received a text telling me if I wanted to find out more about the Cabbie Killer, to meet this person at the corner of Hudson and Franklin at ten pm that night. I went to the area and waited for a half hour before calling it a bust and got into a cab. After a minute of trying to talk to the driver, I felt myself getting dizzy and I passed out."

"Reed, what the hell were you thinking?" Mac whispered. Stella put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I woke up on the floor of the room you are currently standing in. I was bound and gagged. The pictures were of the time just after I woke up. He took me to a room that you probably have one of your CSIs going over now."

"Mac, this is starting to sound a little rehearsed," Stella observed.

Reed looked behind the camera before going off-track. "Mac, I'm sorry; I'm probably not going to live through this. Mom's pictures are underneath the bed."

"Mac, what?" Hawkes looked back at his boss, but he kept watching the tape. He focused in on Reed's hands and the tapping to the tape.

Mac brought up his radio. "Lindsay, are you still in that bedroom?"

"I'm just about to leave."

"I need you to check under the bed for something."

"Mac," Stella started.

"Reed was giving us a message. He hid tape under the bed. This guy's probably not using gloves when he's taping him."

"So, who's Mac?" he asked.

"My contact." Reed wasn't focused on the camera anymore; he was watching the killer come out to the side. Still out of range of the camera angle.

"Within the NYPD?" Reed nodded. "How do you two know each other?"

"He was married to my mother."

"So you're his step-son. Or is it son?"

"Step-son."

"What's his name?" Reed hesitated a moment. The man slapped him across the face. "What's his name?" he howled.

"Garrett, Mac Garrett!" Reed was shrinking away from him, silent tears coming down. The killer turned off the video, but the audio was still going.

"You're lying." He was standing over Reed, who hadn't switched off the recorder.

"No, I'm not." Reed held his arms in front of him to protect himself. The killer grabbed the recorder and spoke into it.

"Well, Mac, whoever you are. I really hope you're willing to help your step-son out of this. I want to hear who you really are," he checked his watch, "From three pm to four pm, you have the chance to call and give your identity. If you don't, the next body on your doorstep is Reed's." He switched off the recorder and stroked Reed's hair.

--

Mac heard the ending of the recording and immediately checked his watch. "Eight hours."

"Hawkes, let's get started on anything that can tie down that next location," Stella ordered. She was going back to the tire tracks to see if any trace was left behind. Hawkes went over the table and where the cab was stopped.

Mac took out the radio again. "Danny, you find anything useful?"

"A couple of prints around the room. I'm lifting and running as fast as I can."

"I'll run them for you so you can finish the room." Mac ended that conversation and got back with Lindsay. "Was it there?"

"Hidden between the bars. He was clever. It's in a bag and ready to get back to the lab."

"I'll pick that up and rush it over there myself."

--

It was already noon when Mac got back to the lab. The prints from Danny and the tape were already running through the system. Adam was taking the time to go over the video with a fine tooth virtual comb to pick up on anything that would help them out.

His cell phone started ringing as soon as he hit the office didn't surprise him. He suspected it was Jordan asking about the latest victim. He was wrong, though, when the phone didn't know the number. "Taylor," he answered.

"Mr. Taylor, this is Shelby Yearly. You're listed as the next of kin for Reed Garrett. I was wondering if you knew where he was," the voice on the other end said.

"No, I don't. I would like to know why you would…" Mac started.

"Kid's probably drunk as hell after that last story."

"That kid shouldn't be drunk as hell; he's not legal age yet."

"What the hell? That kid told me he was twenty-three."

"He's only twenty."

"I never would have hired that kid if I had known. Tell the kid the next time you see him, he's fired."

"You better hope I see him again."

--

He looked back at the clock on the table. It read three fifty-five. "Well, I got my next victim." He walked down to the room where he had Reed. He was on his side and had his back to the door. His upper body was mostly wrapped in tape and his ankles were taped as well. He walked over and took the area just under his armpits to drag him to the cab in the other room. Reed didn't fight him. _He's resigned._ He got him to the back door when the phone started to ring. "Right at death's doorstep." He dropped him and walked over and picked up Reed's phone. "Well, hello Mac, what is your last name?"

"Taylor."

"Detective Mac Taylor, the leader of the crime lab. Now isn't that a surprise?" He looked back at Reed. He had moved himself so he was in a sitting position. "Now, how long does it take to trace a phone call? Three minutes, five minutes?" He walked over to Reed.

"Why would you want to know that?" Mac asked him. Adam was running a trace on the call and was trying to get an exact location.

"I need to know when to hang up." He pulled apart for a moment to hiss in Reed's ear. "Do not mention where we are." He held the phone to Reed's ear.

"Hello."

"Mac."

"Reed, are you all right?"

"I'm fine. He hasn't done anything to me yet."

"Can you give me anything that might lead us to you?"

Reed remembered the sounds of construction outside the building. "I really hate construction season. It gets too loud with the jackhammers."

The killer realized what he was saying and slapped him across the face. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to stop this call. He just broke the rule I gave him." The killer hung up.

"Anything?" Mac asked Adam.

"I've got it down to a six block radius."

"Save it and bring up all construction going on in the city, public and private."

--

The killer kicked him a couple of times in the shoulder. Reed was trying to block out the pain with little success. He got annoyed and grabbed the duct tape off the table. He wrapped it a couple of times around his mouth. "You've got a big mouth, you know that." He started dragging Reed to the back of the car and opened the trunk. He forced Reed into it and closed the door. "Time for another victim. My first second by second reported one." He sighed happily.

* * *

Wow. I'm getting darker. Good thing this is rated T.

Look, you have a nice green button to press for reviews now. Please press it and write something. Please.


	4. Started

D: I don't own CSI NY.

I would like to thank the few people that have been reviewing the story. Since, they're the only ones.

Thank you BlueEyedAuthor, sweetto moi and prophet144.

Also, the case from Vegas was part of the episode 'Revenge Is Best Served Cold.' (Over in CSI land) I didn't realize at the time, but the place is wrong. It's West Africa and it also happened to be the episode with Carmine Giovinazzo. I do not know how that happened. I just remembered Gil's case and not Cath's, which was the one Carmine was.

* * *

"Ow," he said. It was probably redundant. Getting kicked in the shoulder didn't help anyone. Given the fact no one would hear him because he was gagged didn't help either. Reed was listening to the sounds of the traffic beside him. He considered kicking the sides of the trunk whenever someone was close just to see if they could hear him and get him out. The only thing stopping him was he went through it an impulse like that and the killer had started carving the L2729 in his neck. He was only at the L and if it ever got to the 9, he would be in the back suffocating. He was pretty sure the carving was getting infected thanks to the rock and everything that was on it.

_Mac will find me. Mac will find me. Mac will find me before it gets to that point. _He kept reassuring himself. He breathed deeply to keep from hyperventilating and listened to what was going on outside.

"Hey, you seem kind of tired. Why don't I give you a lift?"

--

"No thanks," the woman said. She was holding herself against the bus sign and looked dead on her feet.

The Cabbie Killer saw her as the perfect victim. He wanted to start trying short term live victims so he could have some more fun. _Reed's long term. That's different, though it has given some things to go by._ "Come on. I'll give you a discount. At least twenty-five percent off. From what I can tell, you're on the other side of the city. I can get you to your place faster than having to transfer between three or more buses."

She contemplated the thought for a minute before she told him no. "I like meeting the people. Gives me creative ideas for my novel I plan to write."

"All right, how about thirty percent and I give you a detailed list of my life to put in your story?" He smiled with just the right amount of sincerity to make her cave in.

"All right." She got into the back. She set her purse down and pulled out a notebook out of it. Grabbing a pen, she marked down to the bottom of the page. "Okay, so what's your name?"

"Jason, Jason Logan Echolls. I was named after my mother's grandfather for the first name and my father's father for the middle name."He kept the charade up until halfway to the building. He then turned on the carbon monoxide in the back. After four seconds, he turned off the carbon monoxide.

"What the hell?" he muttered, noticing the leak into the cabin wasn't stopping. He looked around for a bit before finding one of the backup buildings and pulled in. He pulled her out of the back after turning off the engine. He immediately checked for a pulse. "Damn it," he hissed, not finding one. He went back to the opened door and pulled the latch for the trunk. He gathered her up in his arms and laid her next to Reed just moments after he moved out of the way.

Reed screamed at him through the gag. He was trying to glare at him, but he felt his eyes watering from the burning now coming with the carving on his neck. "Shh, it'll take a while, but we'll be back soon," he said, unconvincingly with comfort. He reached to stroke his hair, but Reed moved further into the trunk. "We'll have to deal with that when we get back." He slammed the trunk closed. Any major to the back of his neck caused it to hurt, so he rested his head against the thing protruding from the back seat and cried silent tears. Each tear held a prayer.

_Let Mac find me._

_Let Mac find me._

_Let Mac find me._

--

"Everything's been processed. There's no other trace that we can go to try and trace him to his next place," Stella informed Mac. They were both standing in the main room where they had the most concentration of Cabbie Killer items. All known victims were listed on one of the screens. A rundown of possible vehicle matches was going on another.

"All right, I'm going to go over to Adam and see if he's got the area we traced down to before cross-referenced with the construction going on," he informed her. Stella came over to take over to watch Reed's blog. She saw the first line and pulled Mac back. "'Hello, and welcome to the first play by play of the Cabbie Killer at work.' What the hell is he playing at?" Mac yelled.

"I'll go to Adam and he'll start a run on the site. Hopefully, we can track him down. All right?" Stella asked Mac, moving toward the door. He could only nod as he brought up the blog on the main screen.

Stella walked down to the AV lab. "Adam, I need you to see if there's any possible way to trace Reed's blog back to a location."

"All right," he said, pulling up the blog and running a program on the postings. "His computer's directly linked into the site. It'll take me a few minutes, but," he pondered for a minute before going back to the previous map he had made from the cell phone call and the construction. While the cell phone was going off towers within the city, the laptop may have been going by wires, Adam hoped. He would be able to cross the wire maps with the phone map. He had a highlighted sliver of area.

"All right, you have two areas of construction within this area," Adam pointed out. "This is the only abandoned building by one of the sites."

"Adam, you are a God send." She kissed his forehead before running out of the lab. Adam turned back to the computer with a slight smile mixed with a little confusion.

"Adam brought up a location. An abandoned machine factory. Let's go, I've got the address," she told Mac. They both flew off calling several people on the way for backup and medics.

--

He lined the table with the tarp before going to the car by the back docking. Unfortunately for him, he picked a place that didn't have a drive in like the fish place. He pulled her out first, leaving Reed to adjust his eyes back to light. He set her on the stomach so he could get to the neck easier. He then set up the computer he had taken from Reed's apartment and set it up at the desk. He took the chair sitting far away and sat it by the desk.

He grabbed the rock and went back to the trunk. He grabbed the back of Reed's collar and held him, so his chest was on edge of the trunk lining and his neck was exposed. The L was red and swelling. "It looks beautiful. Let's add to it." He started carving the first two.

Reed screamed when the stone cut in. Tears kept rolling even after the killer was finished. He was lifted up and dragged over to the chair. His wrists and forearms were unbound and the tape was removed for him. The tape around the legs stayed along with the tape on his upper arms. He felt the blood drip down into his collar in the back.

He took off the tape around his mouth. "Turn on your computer and log in." It took a couple of minutes, but soon he was logged in. The desktop was a picture of Mac and the team with Reed by Danny and Flack getting pranked. "Oh, how sweet." He moved the computer next to him and got onto the internet. He brought up the news site and got to the login area. He moved it back to Reed and he finished putting in the necessary information.

"Let's start. Type in 'Hello and welcome to the first play by play of the Cabbie Killer at work.'" Reed complied. "Now, I'm going to start in a couple of minutes. I want you to tell me when you're going to post up a new item, so I can read it first. No helping Mac, got it?"

Reed nodded. Just when he's going over to her body, he asks, "You going to kill me?" The killer looks back at him. He looks back with the right amount of fear, nervousness and a small part of begging that makes him question himself.

_I can't let him get to me. _"We'll see."

--

"He's posting again. The killer's starting carving up her neck," Mac informed Stella. Mac wanted to keep up with the blog, so Stella was driving them to the factory. "Some of the comments are asking why is it taking so long for the next post if it's a play by play."

"Mac, it may mean we have more time to get to him before he gets done with the female victim. The killer may be looking over the blogs before he posts."

"What's our ETA?"

"Less than three. SWAT's going to wait for us. Medics are on their way."

--

He heard the screech of tires outside. Reed also heard them, but didn't put much hope into them. He finished the next post and was waiting for approval. "Very good. Maybe you'll be more useful than I thought." He stroked his hair and let one of his fingers move across the cuts in the back. The cuts got irritated, but Reed kept still. "Good boy, I'll be back." He went over to the body and wrapped her in the tarp. He started moving toward the other room when he heard a call of freeze.

--

Mac went down the corridor first. He was outfitted with a vest and his standard. Stella followed after him. Several SWAT personnel were going around the building and they had birds in the air in case he escaped. Flack was going around the other side with a couple SWAT behind him.

He was going down the main corridor when he saw a man emerging with a tarp in his arms. "Freeze!" he shouted. "NYPD."

The man dropped the tarp and bolted the other way. Mac followed after him and ran up a couple of stairs. _Why do these places always have a bunch of hallways and corridors? They don't need the maze. Maybe it's for exercise._ Mac's mind was going faster than his feet, but one thing kept driving him on.

_The bastard took Reed. He's not getting away so easily._

They got to the top of a turret that used to house sand that was turned into silicon for the parts. The killer looked around him and saw Flack coming up one side. He turned to see Mac coming up the other. He saw a truck coming down the alleyway. He jumped.

"Shit!" Mac and Flack exclaimed when they saw him dive over. They figured he just tried to commit suicide. They didn't know about the truck until Mac got to the side.

"I'll see you again, Detective Taylor. Very soon. I want to complete Reed," he called out, jumping off the truck when it hit the sidewalk. He blended into the crowd.

"Get a description of him out to the wires," Mac ordered Flack. He headed down to the room where the killer had come from.

Reed jumped up when he saw him, wrapping his arms around him and crying into his shoulder. Stella was handling the tape that had been around Reed's arms and ankles. The medic that had been attending him came over to the two. She looked at Mac. "We need to get him to a hospital. Some of his wounds have become infected and a doctor will have to check it out to see how far it's progressed," she spoke in the calmest voice she could find.

"Okay, Reed," Mac whispered, trying to unwrap Reed's arms so he could speak to him face to face. He clung even tighter to Mac. Mac noticed his shaking and how it increased when he tried to get him to let go. "Okay, okay," he soothed, started to rub his back like you would with a crying child, "I'm not going anywhere." He turned his attention to Stella. "Do you have everything you need?"

"He won't let anyone by his neck."

"Okay, Hawkes and Lindsay were behind us. I'll send in Lindsay first to help you and Hawkes can get the remaining items from Reed. And me," he added as an afterthought when he thought about all the transfer Reed had passed onto him. He looked over to the medic that was still there. "How close can you get the bus to the doorframe? We'll need the least amount of area to avoid the media."

"My partner's about fifteen feet away. The sidewalk's blocking us."

"All right. Reed." His attention went back to his step-son. "We need to walk out of here. I'll still be near, but it's going to be hard to move like this," he tried to joke. He heard the closest thing he could qualify as a short laugh and felt a nod before Reed pulled away. He kept an arm around him. Reed leaned into him as they walked out.

Hawkes and Lindsay were already coming over. "Hawkes, I want you to ride with us and collect things from Reed and me. Lindsay, help Stella inside. If you need any more help, grab Danny out." Lindsay nodded as she went in. Reed climbed in first and was made to lie down on the stretcher while Mac sat across from him. Hawkes took the other side with the medic, who kept checking on the neck wound.

"Do you mind if I look?" Hawkes asked. The medic was surprised. "I used to be a doctor. Still have my credentials." She nodded and moved to the side as much as she could. He lifted Reed's hair to get a better look at the cuts. Reed grabbed Mac's hand. Mac responded by rubbing his arm to calm him a little bit. "The infection hasn't reached his blood stream yet. There's going to be trace within the wounds that will have to be cleaned out." Mac gave him a questioning look. "It looks like he used the same item that he used on his previous victims."

"It was a stone," a voice said. Mac looked down at Reed.

"A stone?" Reed nodded.

"Nothing else major. Minor dehydration and malnutrition. He'll be physically fine within a couple of days," Hawkes concluded, moving back to his original position to let the medic back.

"Reed, I want you to be honest with me. Is there anything else wrong?" Mac asked him.

"He kicked me in the shoulder a few times. There's nothing else."

"How does your neck feel?"

"It's burning; it itches." He would have continued, but at that moment, he felt incredibly sleepy. He closed his eyes to succumb to the tiredness.

Mac looked up at Hawkes. "Is it okay for him to be going to sleep with the infection?"

"It doesn't seem too deep. The doctor will have to wake him up to get his consent for the cleaning and the paperwork. Let him sleep for now, Mac. Looks like he needs it."

--

"Hey, Stel, where do you want me to work?" Lindsay asked Stella, coming into the room.

"His cab's over in the other room. Start going over for prints." Lindsay nodded and went into the other room.

Stella got through with the table and lifted a few good footprints off the floor. The last thing she needed to go over was the desk and the computer on it. She walked over and started dusting everything around it. She collected a few good prints and packaged the rock that was used for the neck carvings. Then, she turned her direction to the computer.

She kept a game face on as she dusted the frame and lifting prints on the front. She woke up the computer and ignored the background as well as she could to look at the battery power and decided to power off the computer for Adam to look at. She packed everything she got into a crate and brought it over to where Lindsay was working.

Lindsay was under the car looking at something. "What did you find, Linds?" she asked.

She brought herself out enough to look at Stella. "He was fixing his car. There's a hose that is connected to the main box that takes the carbon monoxide to what looks like the back seat. It looks like the thing was connected by a switch. It would close off the way out of the main pipe and funnel the exhaust to the back seat."

"Yeah, but if people knew what was going on, then they would try to get out."

"Maybe he rigged the locks on the doors also."

Stella nodded. "Let's get the back to the scene. Danny and you are going to go over this for trace."

"What are you going to do?"

"Find anything here that will help with the next place."

* * *

Sorry, I'm not done just yet. He's still has to get caught. Review, please. Even if it's to say that I'm a crazy sick person that shouldn't be doing this. (I'm going to continue though.) Please.


	5. Tag, You're Caught

D: I don't own CSI NY.

I would like to say thanks to those that read, reviewed and read and reviewed.

* * *

"So, why did you lie about your age?" Mac asked. Reed was sitting on the bed. He was wearing hospital provided sweats and a t-shirt.

"They won't hire people under twenty-one."

"They won't?"

"The only parties they have serve alcohol and they don't want to deal with any of the legal crap." They sat in silence for a couple of more minutes before the doctor came in with a nurse. Hawkes was waiting on the door frame.

"Hello Reed, I'm Doctor Dohring. This is Nurse Bell. We're going to be taking care of your neck. Could you please lie down on your right side?" Reed obliged, but nearly jumped up when Mac started to leave the room.

Mac walked over to him. "Reed, it's okay. I'm going to go over into another room to give Hawkes the evidence you left on me. There is an officer outside the door. He can't get you here." He rubbed his shoulder to try and calm him down. Reed looked up and him and after a minute, nodded. Mac walked out of the room watching him stay on the bed.

Hawkes was waiting in the next room. He had two bags ready. "Only two?" Mac asked.

"Reed only touched you on the vest and the shirt. Pants aren't that big," he explained, picking up the larger bag first, "Take off the vest." Mac removed the vest at the straps and slid it into the bag. Mac started on his shirt while Hawkes was sealing the first. He held out the bag and Mac deposited it. Hawkes then pulled out a bag. "Stella went over to your apartment. Grabbed you a shirt and some older things for Reed." He walked out after giving it to him.

Mac went back to Reed to see he was still being worked on. He hissed when water was sprayed onto the wounds. Mac stayed around the back to observe Reed. He would have sworn Reed was twenty-three when he was fighting with him in his office a few days back. Even in the hall he didn't show his age of three years younger. The only reason he didn't believe he was twenty-three was because his parents had told him he was just nineteen when he ran Reed over to his parents after the attack. It was only now, all the fear that he had had de-aged his appearance. _He looks like his age. Sometimes, it's even younger. _He remembers the face that jumped up and hugged him. _I couldn't even imagine what he looked like during the time._ His thoughts were interrupted when the nurse shook his shoulder.

"He's ready to go. Dohring's giving the same speech I am. Try to replace the bandage every six hours or before and after sleep for nighttime. Any triple antibiotic will work," Bell said, giving him some more tips for the shoulder as well.

"Thank you," he said, moving over to Reed, who was sitting up and rubbing the gauze now covering the back. The doctor and the nurse left. "How are you feeling?"

He didn't answer the question. "What's in the bag?"

"Different clothes if you want to change out." Reed looked in the bag and pulled out a dark green t-shirt and pair of jeans. He tried on the shirt. It fell down to his waist normally. He made a spinning motion to Mac, waiting until he was turned to change into the jeans. He slipped on his shoes, the only things he was allowed to keep besides his boxers and stood next to Mac.

"Where am I going to go?" Reed asked Mac. They were waiting outside for Stella to come by.

"Can't go to your apartment, Danny's processing still. Why don't you stay with me?"

"Mac, he'll be able to find where you live easily. And you don't have my keys listed as evidence, so he has a way in. And Mom and Dad are out of state for a convention."

Mac wrapped an arm around and squeezed him. "You'll stay with me at the lab until he's caught. All right?" Reed nodded and watched the road.

Stella pulled up a few minutes later. She got out of the car, gave the keys to Mac, and hugged Reed herself. "How are you?" she asked, pulling back to see his face.

"Well, there's a killer on the loose that wants to come back and kill me. I don't have a job anymore and this thing is going to drive me crazy. Pretty much, I'm fine," Reed said, poking at the bandage to make it stop itching. Stella got into the passenger's seat while Reed took the back.

--

Mac was back in the lab by eleven. Reed was in his office sleeping and they had all gathered in the room again to go over developments. "What do we got so far?" Mac asked.

"We've got his cab, several of his prints on file," Danny started.

"Anything to lead us to him?"

"There were small amounts of trace on the floor of the driver's seat that wasn't from either the processing plant or the factory. Silicon dioxide, broken glass and rust," Lindsay informed, handing over the report.

"We can tie our victims to this guy?"

"All victims were contributors on the stone. Reed's blood was also on there." Hawkes handed over the report.

Mac rubbed the bridge of his nose while trying to come up with a thought. "All right, research all abandoned buildings that use to house materials like this," he ordered to Danny, Lindsay and Hawkes. "Flack, what about the phone tips?"

"Nothing. Every lead has been a dead end. There's not even a half sensible lead in the pack. People are calling in their neighbors to get rid of them."

"Maybe someone will have seen him now since he doesn't have his cab. Get back on the lines." Flack nodded and left behind the others.

"Maybe you should talk with Reed. He could have seen something, heard something that might be able to help us," Stella suggested.

"I'll wait until he wakes up. He needs sleep after staying up long."

Stella looked at the doorway. "I don't think you have to worry about that."

Mac followed her line of sight to the door. "Reed, what's wrong?"

Reed shrugged his shoulders, wincing at moving his right. "Nightmare."

Mac nodded. "All right, we need to talk about what happened." Reed threw a questioning look, but sat down in one of the seats anyway.

"You got up to the point where you woke up in the processing plant. What happened after that?"

Reed took a deep breath. "He took the pictures of me tied up and dragged me to a room with a bed. He left after that. I didn't see him again until a few hours later. I had been asleep, but I woke up when he came in. I faked being asleep until he started touching my hair and my face. He realized I wasn't sleeping. He asked about what exactly I was. He already knew my name and asked if he could call me that. He left me the clothes he brought from my apartment, said he was going to make something for us to eat and left."

"Was it after you ate that you did the video?"

Reed nodded. His hand flew to his stomach after it grumbled a little bit. "I haven't had anything to eat since then," he said, smiling with a touch of blush hitting his face.

"I'll get you two something to eat," Stella offered, leaving the room.

Mac was about to stop her when Reed stopped him. "Quit it, Mac. You probably haven't had anything to eat since six hours before I got into the cab." Mac gave him a glare which he could only laugh at. "Stella probably figured you've been using lunch time as work time to catch him. She can probably read you a lot better than a professional can."

Mac cracked a smile and patted Reed's good shoulder a couple of times. "Let's get back to the timeline. After the video."

"We were at the machine plant where you found me. I was in another room until you called. After the call, when he realized that I gave you a clue, he stuffed me in the back. Before he left the building, he had this idea to teach me a lesson."

"The back of your neck."

He nodded and took a shaky breath. "He said if he ever got to the nine, it wouldn't matter how useful I was, he was going to put me in the back and deliver me to the steps of the building." Mac moved his chair over to Reed and put an arm around his shoulders. "I was in the trunk when he killed the woman. She didn't want to get in the cab, but he convinced her by saying he was going to give her his life story in detail. She was a writer. He even gave her his name." Both arms encircled him and he turned his face into his shoulder, tears running down. "He was trying to knock her out, but something went wrong. He pulled into another building. He put her in the trunk with me. She was dead. He was going to stroke my hair and I moved away."

Mac rubbed his arm. "It's okay, Reed."

"He gave me the two when we were at the plant. He then had me start on the blogs. He had to approve them before they went up. He was done with the body and was going to leave me in the chair until he came back. He wanted to see if I would be obedient to him." The two arms squeezed him and pulled him tighter as he started to cry. "I'm still scared of him. He knows where I live; he knows about you."

"He can't get to you. He can't get to you anymore." He settled him down enough so they could get down a decent meal. Reed looked a little better after eating and was calm enough to go back to the timeline.

"Reed, you were talking about pulling into another building. Was it the machine plant?" A shake of the head. "It was another building?" A nod. "Do you remember anything about the building? Was there something you could see? Anything you could hear? Possibly a smell?"

"The place was moldy; I could smell that. There was nothing out of the ordinary with sounds. There was something on the wall. Graffiti. It looked like those things, umm…" He snapped his fingers to bring out the name. "A tag!"

"You saw a tag. Can you describe it?"

Reed shook his head. "I could give a basic drawing though." Stella handed him a blank paper and a pen. He remembered the name and the basics around the name. When he was done, he handed it back to Stella.

"I've seen this before. This was the tag inside a building a couple years ago. Three gang murders took place there. Reed, was it red and green by any chance?" Stella asked. Reed nodded. She turned to Mac. "It's a rec plant that specialized in making arrows."

"Get Flack and the team together. We'll coordinate and hit at midnight. Arraign it," Mac told Stella. She took out her cell phone and walked out of the room.

Reed looked at Mac. "I've got one thing to say." Mac looked Reed straight in the eyes. "Get the son of a bitch, would ya?"

--

Several SWAT were waiting outside the doors of the Green Olive rec company. Flack, Mac and Stella were wearing vests and holding their guns in front as they reached the front door. Flack gave the signal and SWAT went through the back first. Flack and Mac headed the front with Stella and a few others going down the other corridors. They hit the main room at the same time as the SWAT team. A silent conformation told them he wasn't in any of the other rooms. "Check the entire room. I doubt he's anywhere else," Mac ordered.

SWAT went over to the other rooms while Flack and Mac took the one they were in. They waited a few minutes and made the room as silent as they could. A squeak of a hinge made both of them swing their guns at the opening part of a wall. The killer came out and took one look. "Damn," he simplified.

Flack went over and said the words he wanted to say for the longest time. "Jason Echolls, you're under arrest for the murders of Chrissy Watson, Louise Perry, Ben Melvoy, Sam Lyman, Amanda Englund, Kyle Raven and Sarah Yates . You are under arrest for the kidnapping of Reed Garrett. And you're under arrest for trying to run over an officer, which just happens to be me," he recited, pulling heavily on his arms to force him out.

He ignored Flack and turned to Mac. "Did he stay?" Mac only glared as he laughed and was forced back to walk in front. A mile kept on his lips as a thought raced through his head. Mac Taylor's kryptonite. Wonder how much that will pay for?

--

He slipped into his office to set down his gun and get back to the lab. More key pieces were flitering in from the arrow plant and he was going to join the rest for a night of processing to begin separating items. He grabbed his lab coat and started to head out. He looked at the figure still sleeping on his couch. Reed is safe. The killer's in jail. Everything's getting back to normal. He smiled and looked out to the hall. Flack and Danny were coming closer to the office holding newspaper, flour and a bucket of what Mac suspected was water. They both saw Mac in the office and went back the way they went.

"Everything is back to normal," he muttered to himself as he woke up Reed.

Reed moaned. He squinted open an eye. "What, Mac?"

"What did you do to Don and Danny?"

"I got Adam to help me fill their lockers with expandable foam that doesn't come out so easy."

"What did they do to you?"

"Gave me a shirt coated in frosting. On the inside."

"Wasn't this after you switched their coffee with hot chocolate made with salt?"

"That was after they got me at your party with the string, the invisible ink and the devil horns in the picture. I'm just paying them back."

"Well, watch it, they're going to paper mache your ass."

"I'm use to it. Couple of guys on the basketball did it to me and several other reporters. It was worse than what Danny and Don have planned."

Mac set the lab coat down on the table and took a chair. He sat across Reed. "What happened?"

Reed sat up. "We were covering the latest game of the Chelsea..."

* * *

And there you have it. Taxi remade.

AN: I didn't find the real names for the grad student or the woman that wore a red dress when she was killed. So their names are made up.

Oh and if anyone wants the full story on Reed's story with the basketball players, please tell me. I'll start writing on it after I get a couple of more chapters up on other stories.


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